


We Didn't Know How And Didn't Know When

by pickapersonality



Category: All Time Low (Band)
Genre: Drabble, F/F, Fluff, Girls in Love, gender swap, sharpie graffiti, sweetness and love and happiness, talking in public bathrooms, they're just happy and cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 12:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14894352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pickapersonality/pseuds/pickapersonality
Summary: "How long do you think it'll last?""Not as long as us," Alex turns around again, once more facing Jack and hesitatingly not-quite meeting her eyes. "I hope. Right?"-Jack and Alex talk about the future and write on the bathroom wall.





	We Didn't Know How And Didn't Know When

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't posted anything in a while, and in truth, I've got about five half-finished oneshots in my notes. But, Chvrches put out the second best album of 2018 so far (closely following Marmozets) and Graffiti made me really want to write from it. So, here we are, and here you go. 
> 
> Title taken from, unsurprisingly, Graffiti by Chvrches.

“ we wrote our names along the bathroom walls  
graffitiing our hearts across the stalls. ”

 

Jack flounces into the bathroom after Alex, scuffed Converse following the equally worn Dr Martens, squeaking over the tiled floor. She's a bundle of long, tanned limbs; choppily-cut dark hair, hitting the leather shoulders of her jacket- all stuck together with her own particular flavour of youthful arrogance that she wore over all else. 

The stalls are all empty; Jack sweeps her eyes down the row and sees each door open, while the sinks rest below the grimy, frosted windows akin to something out of a prison. Everything's very white and sterile- or at least, probably was originally. Now, it's all been reduced to a tired grey, much like all the old, flaking hearts graffitied across the tiles in black sharpie names- come, gone, forgotten. 

"What's wrong?" Jack squints at Alex, just a little, as the older girl gives her a bemused smile. In the harsh strip lighting, the hazel of her eyes is a little sharper, with added glint. 

"Nothing," Alex backs up to the sinks, stopping as her hip hits the edge of one, and traces a finger over the zips of Jack's jacket. "Just wanted to see you." 

"You could see me outside." Jack rolls her eyes, but it's without irritation. 

Alex's smile widens a little, and she grabs the lapels of the jacket. "Wanted to see you without anyone else watching." 

The kiss is sweet, gentle, as their mouths slide together and Jack's hands slide down to rest on the other girl's hips, over the high waist of her skinny jeans. Alex tastes of apple ice cream, the one that she'd been eating on the bench outside, and the ever-present trace of lip gloss she's always reapplying. Jack's fallen in love with the taste of Alex's kisses, like she's fallen in love with every other part of the girl. 

Jack raises a hand to thread her fingers through Alex's honey-brown hair, just a little shorter than her own, tracing her thumb over the line of Alex's cheekbone. Alex shivers a little, under the small touch, and Jack can't help smiling against her mouth, goddammit. She feels full and floaty and fizzy, all stuffed with sunshine and ice cream and Alex. 

Alex breaks away just a little, biting her lip and tucking a strand of Jack's hair behind her ear. "I love you, you know." 

"I do know," Jack laughs. "I love you too, you weirdo." 

With open arms, Alex embraces Jack fully, resting her chin on the leather-clad shoulder. The older girl always carries a scent of peppermint around with her, from the little ceramic pots crowding their balcony, and the incense she burns all the time. It sinks into every pore of her skin, letting Jack inhale deeply and smile. 

"Hey," Alex says. "Got a pen?" 

"Do I, the girlfriend of Alexa Gaskarth, girl who never stops writing down bits of shitty poetry, have a pen?" Jack rolls her eyes, digging through one of her many zipped-up pockets. "Of course I do. Blue sharpie or black sharpie?" 

Alex casts a look around at all the names littering the walls, fading, peeling and stark in equal measure. "Blue. Let's stand out. And my poetry is great, fuck you." 

Jack flutters her eyelashes obnoxiously as she hands Alex the pen. "Later, babe. You know I love your poetry. I stick it on the goddamn refrigerator." 

The honey-haired girl casts her a small smile, all fuzzy and careful to hide the fizzing joy Jack knew was sparkling beneath, as she uncapped the sharpie with a loud pop. 

"Pick a spot." 

Jack moves back a little to allow Alex to turn around, face the tiles, as they both scour the greyed walls for a suitable spot. She still wraps her arms around the older girl, of course, chest to back and elbows on hips and chins on shoulders switched around. They fit together like the most attractive game of Jenga Jack has ever known. 

"There." 

Alex laughs a little, tapping the tile between the sinks, at eye level. "Right in the middle. Perfect." 

She reaches up and, with a smooth curve of her wrist, scribbles her own name in block capitals, drawing the plus sign a little like a cross, just a little slanted, and then scrawls Jack's name to fill up the rest of the tile. 

Their names are big and bold and blue, next to the sea of grey tiles and flaking, black ink surrounding. The sight of them there, together, makes Jack's heart feel as if it has just swelled up like a neon ballon, heart-shaped and floating. Alex chuckles, a little, soft sound, and Jack lets her heart ballon fly off into the sky, up to infinite heights. 

"How long do you think it'll last?" 

"Not as long as us," Alex turns around again, once more facing Jack and hesitatingly not-quite meeting her eyes. "I hope. Right?" 

Jack slides her fingers around the base of Alex's neck, untucking all the ends of that golden brown hair that have become stuck in the denim collar of her jacket. "I want to grow old and start a clan of stray cats and weird herbs in stupid plant pots with you. Do you wanna start this feline foliage family with me too?" 

Alex laughs out loud at that, the sound all high and happy. "Yes. I would like that a lot." 

"Come on, then," Jack flicks the tile behind Alex's head, nail on the concluding 'K' of her name. "Our names are here. Let's go eat and start planning our cat family." 

Alex raises her eyes, finally, to meet Jack's head on, and they're so full of adoration that Jack is, momentarily, quite stunned. "Our hearts are graffitied on the wall. Now buy me more apple ice cream." 

Jack grabs her girlfriend's hand, and they swing out of the bathroom, sneakers following leather boots in syncopation, one last laugh reverberating into each stall and sink.


End file.
